Send "Alexi Murdoch " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Popmatters |
 The words “quiet place” can evoke several different scenarios. There’s the silence of the library, punctuated by the ruffling of pages, patrons talking in hushed tones, and the soft conversations of the librarians. There’s the stillness of the woods, with the wind blowing through the trees, birds chirping their songs, and the scattered noises of other critters small and large. And then there’s the tranquility of the church, where the absence of noise takes on an almost physical sense of a vacuum, so that one can meditate and reflect in order to summon some kind of higher spirit. The extreme quiet of acoustic singer songwriter Alexi Murdoch’s new record suggests this kind of holy silence. Compared to Murdoch, Sufjan Stevens is a shouter and Arvo Part’s Estonian snowscapes resemble Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture”—and Murdoch’s music recalls both Stevens and Part in its self-conscious spirituality. Perhaps this evocation of church is not accidental. While as far as I know Murdoch does not embrace any particular religion nor has he been born again, the subtly intoned lyrics offer traces of Christian idolatry. Consider the hauntingly beautiful “Some Day Soon” that begins, “I love my father and I love him well / And I hope to see him some day soon”, and then morphs into “And you know that mother I’d be lying / If I didn’t tell you I was afraid of dying”. Is Murdoch singing about God the father, mother Mary, and the meaning of life, or is he singing about some more archetypal and mythic parents, or even his own ma and pa? The answer is not clear, but on a very real level, who cares? What matters is that Murdoch gives a heartbreakingly lovely performance. Murdoch recorded the album in a single night in Vancouver back in 2009 while touring North America. He took the tracks back to New York City and fleshed them out with the help of Brooklyn hipsters Jon Natchez and Kelly Pratt (Beirut) and Kyle Resnick (The National). Although the term ‘fleshed out’ is not quite appropriate for an album this sparse. More like, these musicians added shade to shade....full text |
| Elbo |
| Compared to Murdoch, Sufjan Stevens is a shouter and Arvo Part's Estonian snowscapes resemble Tchaikovsky's "1812 Overture" -- and Murdoch's music recalls both Stevens and Part in its self-conscious spirituality. The words "quiet place" can evoke several different scenarios. There's the silence of the library, punctuated by the ruffling of pages, patrons talking in hushed tones, and the soft conversations of the librarians. There's the stillness of the woods, with the wind blowing through the trees, birds chirping their songs, and the scattered noises of other critters small and large. And then there's the tranquility of the church, where...full text |
| Npr |
| From the moment he started releasing music in 2002, singer-songwriter Alexi Murdoch has drawn comparisons to English folk legend Nick Drake. To be fair, Murdoch does have a heartbreakingly beautiful voice that shares Drake's fragile grace and mystery, and Murdoch gently finger-picks his guitar with alternate tunings similar to the ones Drake used 40 years ago. And, while Murdoch is hardly the only performer to crib from the Drake canon, he pulls it off with more emotional depth and honesty than a lot of musicians. I've always been a pushover for wispy-voiced acoustic artists, and have long thought Murdoch was a singer-songwriter I should love. But, with the exception of a few tracks here and there — check out "Song for You" from Time Without Consequence — I've never fully taken to his work until now. Murdoch's new release, Towards the Sun, is the most alluring and fully realized collection of songs he's crafted so far. Murdoch has always self-recorded and released his music on his own label, and Towards the Sun is no different. He recorded most of its tracks in a single night while on tour in Vancouver in 2009, and that helps give the songs the innocent spontaneity of a home recording. After the tour, he revisited the recordings in Brooklyn, drawing additional support from Jon Natchez and Kelly Pratt of the band Beirut, as well as Kyle Resnick of The National. Towards the Sun covers familiar singer-songwriter territory: There's lots of love and heartache, troubled families and reflective meditations on the mysteries concealed in life's simplest moments. Murdoch often limits the instrumentation to a basic bass drum, acoustic guitar and piano, but the mix remains rich and radiant, and he has a gift for crafting songs that feel like close companions. They're familiar but fresh, spare and intimate, but also expansive in their warmth and beauty, making Towards the Sun a good (and appropriately titled) friend as we head into spring....full text |
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